


Only She

by sanniespout



Category: ATEEZ (Band), K-pop
Genre: Alternative Perspective, F/M, Fantasy, Gen, Hallucinations, Imagination, Imagination Au, Insomnia, Lucid Dreaming, Self-Indulgent, alternative universe, illusory au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:01:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28448085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanniespout/pseuds/sanniespout
Summary: Why was she the only one who could always clear his mind? Why was she even there? What porpuse did she serve? She wasn’t real, get that through your brain.
Relationships: k-pop idol / reader





	Only She

**Author's Note:**

> This isn’t real and the K-pop member of choice is hallucinating encounters with reader.

Tiresome, tiresome was the best word he could use describe the constant state he was in. Insomnia was getting the best of him, and he had no clue how to get rid of it. Of course he knew he was supposed to sleep more often, but with the amount he had to do for his group’s next comeback, he lost himself to the illness he had created due to lack of sleep.

That stupid melatonin pen wasn’t working anymore, and he didn’t know if that was because he got over the effect the melatonin had on him or it was dead. Either way, he wasn’t going to ask his psychiatrist for a new one, since this one was only three weeks old. 

He was feeling gone, out of existence. His palms were sweating, but he couldn’t feel it, matter of fact, he couldn’t physically feel anything. His body went numb hours ago, only his mental state was still conscious, despite the growing headache he was experiencing.

He used to like how the melatonin worked through his body, in under 20 minutes he was out cold, resting his mind for the next exhausting day. He grew tired of that feeling rather quickly, never savoring it before it was completely gone. Now he was left with nothing more than that craving for the absent trick of mind, yearning for an escape to false reality where he could at last be happy and healthy, even if it was for only a few hours.

After multiple failed attempts to fall asleep he gave up, it wasn’t like he would magically have the capacity to go to sleep, his body had already grew accustomed to the lack of rest, and found it a usual thing. It was draining not being able to sleep nightly like he needed to, but at that point, there was very little he could do, only hang on to those prescription pills his doctor signed onto him, and that stupid melatonin diffuser. 

That _stupid goddamn_ pen. 

What was it supposed to make him feel like? Was it supposed to make him feel like absolute shit? That wasn’t what his psychiatrist told him. Whatever it was supposed to feel like was not happening, it was the exact opposite. 

The prescription pills stopped working ages ago too. The only thing he had left was the drug in that melatonin pen. And he used to be happy with that. It was an addiction he didn’t know if he could ever get over. The feeling he needed so badly, like he didn’t want to ever lose it.

And if he did he would go entirely insane without that distinct feeling, that feeling of companionship when he was high, that feeling of happiness. 

Companionship; something he envied people around him for having. Something he hated himself for letting go. Something he also dreaded to come back.

Companionship was ond of the many things he lost after insomnia took over him. Once he was a happy person, always hanging out with the other members of his group, always happy, but as the sleeping disorder took over he slowly but surely started to lose the privilege of intimacy. 

Only one person in the group knows about his constant lack of sleep, and he wanted to keep it that way. Why would he want to worry the other guys with this personal problems? He knew he should’ve thought about telling them before, but pitty was something he didn’t want to get drowned in, and his friends weren’t exactly the understanding type. 

Like it or not, he did have to live with them, and he also knew he’d either going to speak to them, or they’ll find out by someone else. They weren’t stupid either, some of them were also observant, noticing how he’d become distant, almost like he was avoiding them after practice and their schedules. 

They did find it suspicious, but decided to give him time to explain himself, and the other one, swore to him that he will not be speaking about his illness with anyone else, and he’d just let him confess on his own time, it was the least he could do, so he agreed, and his mouth had been kept shut for quite some time. 

He remembered someone he used to see in his dreams, no scratch that. He remembered someone he used to _hear_ when he was knocked out from the drugs he consumed, he recalled a girl with a soft voice, only her voice he could distinguish, the rest of her was almost like nothing, non-existent. 

He did find her company rather enjoyable, she used to tell him how everything will turn out completely fine, even thought he was scareaming from the inside, and his body felt like senseless, she always assured him that he will one day be perfectly fine. 

He regularly looked forward to hearing her voice again and again every time he found himself back in that mindless state. He didn’t know how, and why, but the voice helped him. It helped him calm down, helped him come back from the self-indulgent feelings he developed while being stuck inside his own mind.

He did always wonder why the voice never revealed itself. He even attempted asking it if it’ll ever properly show a body belonging to the pretty voice he grew to love. But he never received an answer, always being left in the dust.

If he was in his right state of mind, he would’ve already scolded himself out for stupidly falling for a merely engaging voice. She was there to only console, she probably wanted nothing else to do with him. Hell, she probably even pitied him for being so careless, a good for nothing asshole who left his friend behind, because he couldn’t take proper care of himself.

But if he said he truly cared he would be lying to himself.

He only cared about her. About how she was there every time he needed her. How she always replied back when he called out for her, wanting to hear her sweet voice one last time. It was crazy how hard and fast he fell for the sweet little thing in only, God knows how short of a time he got some sleep. And he would be embarrassed if he was awake and healthy, looking down onto himself and scowling. How could he manage to get to sick?

He found it quite intriguing how he overlooked the fact that she might not even be real. Well she wasn’t, that was for sure, a small part of his brain, the _logical_ part, already knew that since the beginning. But he disregarded it pretty quickly after finding himself so drawn to the voice inside his head, guiding him.

The robotic like structured sentences was also something that was eagerly thrown out the window. He didn’t care how many times she repeated the same words, it was the thought that counted. 

He loved every sound her soothing voice made, he found it wonderful. He would even go as far to say her words of comfort truly helped, not as fast as would like, but they helped. With time, he also started believing the little advice tips she kept giving him. 

And slowly but surely, he began to change his ways of tending himself. It started small, but gradually he changed how he took care of himself. Like he was going on one of those diets his manager suggested to keep himself in check. 

It was really hard to change so much in so little time, but he managed, with the help of his lovely little protecter at the back of his head, looking out for him.

He was already becoming the happy and bubbly person he once was, before his episode began. He missed it a lot, he missed the overly excited personality he had when he was with the other members. 

Fuck, how he missed his friends. So much. 

They never once gave up on him throughout his whole ordeal. Always checking up him, even if he didn’t want it, they always did. Small things like taking food up to his room when he was finally getting a good sleep. Those things made it clear how much they worried about him. And he wanted nothing mote than to apologize profusely to them, for giving up on himself so quick. 

Maybe it wasn’t them who were the exact reason he got better, but he still felt so bad. He felt so selfish for distancing himself when it was obvious how much he needed their help. But they weren’t about to hold a grudge against him. Not when he tried his best to get better, and luckily succeeded in doing so. They were happy that he was finally able to take one step forward. 

He also found himself not necessarily needing the help of the insiders voice anymore. And found it rather bothersome how when he slept, she was there talking to him. Distracting him even when he wasn’t awake. Making sure he was okay. He was _perfectly fine_ , why would she need to worry about him? 

No, why did he need to worry about her. She was just a small voice that couldn’t show herself because of what? He had no clue, for she never talked about herself with him, prioritizing him only. 

He was angry at her for doing that. Why couldn’t she just mind her business and leave him alone. Now he looked stupid for taking advice and listening to an unknown person. It made him look worse than before. 

He felt humiliated with himself 

And he told her exactly that. He didn’t need her help before, and he sure as hell didn’t need it now. Nor did he want it. 

He told her that she could leave. And never bother him anymore if she wasn’t going to show her own self. It was stupid, and he wasn’t going to deal with her. 

_And what Master wants Master gets right?_


End file.
